He was just a blue eyed Boston boyHis voice was low with painI'll do your bidding comrade mineIf I ride back againBut if you ride on and I should fallYou'll do as much for meMother at home is awaiting the newsSo write her tenderly

She is waiting at home like a patient saintHer fond face pale with woeHer heart will be broken when I am deadI'll see her face no moreJust then the order came to chargeFor a moment hand touched handThe answered "aye" and away they rodeThat brave and devoted band

Straight way was the course to the top of the hillThe rebels they shot with shot and shellPloughed furrows of death through the toiling ranksAnd guarded them as the fellThere soon came a horrible dying soundFrom the heights they could not gainAnd those that doom and death had sparedRose slowly back again

But among the dead at the top of the hillWas the boy with the golden hairAnd the tall dark man that rode by his sideLay still beside him thereThere was no one to write to his blue eyed girlThe words that her lover had saidAnd mother at home is awaiting her sonShe'll only find he's deadWhile mother at home is awaiting her son